One week into the trip and we've ll come to realise that no mater how prepared you are, Africa always has a couple of curve balls to hurl at you! Having said that, the rewards at the end of each day have far out weighed the “misfortunes”. Take today as a perfect example:
Early morning wake-up (the sleep-in continues to elude us) in preparation for the long drive to Cahorra Bassa dam, in the province of Tette. Dedicated young Charlotte frantically crammed her belongings together so she could organise us a quick breakfast before we left. Unfortunately a light drizzle turned into rain and we promptly decided to forget breakfast and eat along the way, leaving the menagerie which is Casa Misika behind us. The rain was good though. For once we weren't sticking to the seats, Gareth's jokes were more bearable, and watching young children balance heavy buckets of water on their heads' didn't seem as punishing in the slightly more forgiving weather. We stopped off coffee and rusks along the way before pushing through to our destination. So far so good…
It was just after lunch that we stopped in Songo. The plan was to quickly fill up with petrol before checking in at Ugezi Tiger Lodge- just a few kilometers down the road…so close, yet so, so far. Songo can be seen as the power house of Mozambique. It's impressive hydroelectric power station has earned the area quite a reputation, and the squeaky clean streets and beautiful town gardens were impressive to say the least! But… as we pulled up to the security gate, guarding this little town, movement in the car in front of us suggested that “passports were required.” I gently woke my car up with the message and almost instantly, poor old Charlotte's face dropped. You could practically seen the tiny droplets of fear-reeking perspiration accumulate on her brow as she realised her passport was under her pillow, back at Casa Msika. And to her credit, for the next terrible half an hour she held herself with the poise and professionalism of an ambassador. The guard at the gate was was the least of our problems. He was happy to let us through for a cold coke….and Darryn's shirt, some text books and $100.
What we needed to decide was whether we were about to schlep back to Chimoio, a six hour drive, to pick up the passport or not! No one was keen…so we decided to head on into the town to see what could be done. First though, a few nervous moments, as I was pulled into the little guard-house on my own, with instructions that no one was to accompany me. (Had I known about the three AK47s under the desk I may have been a little more resistant). But after a bit of bartering we were let through at the cost of an old soccer magazine and a $20 bill.
On the “plus-side”, the missing passport had now been brought to our attention before we reached the Malawian border…and Songo was one “hooked-up” town. The police were fantastic. Rather than dragging our precious Charl off to the nearest dingy cell, or demanding irrational bribes, they helped us out. Slowly, slowly they banged away at a beautiful antique type-writer, forging a document which officially gave us permission to leave Mozambique without a passport. And less than 50m down the road was the local DHL, where we discovered that we could have the passport sent up to Malawi where we'll meet it! Once again, little Pedro Luca's Portuguese ancestry saved our asses.
Anyway! As I said, the rewards have literally launched the odd misfortune off the see-saw of fate and into oblivion. After finally being greeted by the friendly staff at Ugezi Tiger Lodge, Charlotte managed to organise us a cruise on the awesome Cahorra Bass Dam! Any agitation, annoyance or doubt of the journey ahead vanished just as quickly as the sun disappeared behind the rocky terrain around us…and with the onset of darkness and a few drinks in the the tank…the boys got naked. Sometimes the freedom of throwing the last precious belongings you have to the floor, and diving into some of Africa's most beautiful waters in necessary… just to help it all sink in. We had a beautiful cruise in one of our favourite spots so far before heading back to camp. “Pasta al la Gareth” was on the menu and after a hearty meal we proceeded to make light of the day's events. And though we all went to sleep happy as pigs in pooh, I can guarantee that everyone was hoping that tomorrow would be just a little easier on the nerves.
